Just like that, I took her life and threw her into mine.

Those Russians were after Mom and me. Or rather, they were after me since they had no problem hurting Mom once they found me.

Tears fill my eyes as I fall back on the bed, my limbs shaking and my heart racing louder and harder with every second.

Mom.

Reina.

Dad.

They’re all gone now, and I’m the only one who remains, the dirty little monster Rai who took an identity and a life that was never hers, who got engaged to a person who was never supposed to be hers.

Rai Sokolov.

That’s Russian, like Mom’s name and those men’s accents.

Mom used to teach me some Russian, telling me it was better to understand my enemies so I’d know what I was in for.

She considered them enemies and ran away from them. She took Reina and me and planned to leave the country. We had forged passports and forged identities and papers. But that day, they found us and everything blew up.

They killed Mom and took Reina.

I hate myself for being a fucking coward back then, for letting Reina take my place, for running away to Dad. I hate that I never looked back, never stopped.

In my twelve-year-old mind, I was so tired of running all the time, tired of never staying in one place for more than a few months, never having friends, never having enough food.

Never having a father.

I was also so fucking scared when I realized Mom no longer existed. She had been the one who took care of me, and I had no clue what the fuck to do without her.

So when Reina gave me her life, I took it.

I didn’t ask her to run with me to Dad, because I knew they’d never stop until they got Mia Sokolov’s daughter.

And they did stop. Once I started living with Dad, they never bothered me—I think. My memories are still fuzzy around that.

What I know for sure is that at the time, I thought Dad would try to find Reina and bring her back.

He must’ve realized he got the wrong twin. And in some way, maybe Dad searched for her. It can’t be a coincidence that he was involved in all that dangerous business with the mafia.

Then they took him, too.

And they came back for Reina and me when we reunited at the cottage. Although I don’t remember exactly what happened, I’m sure they did.

If they didn’t kill her after all these years, surely they need her alive, right? Surely she’s still out there.

Human remains.

A tear slides down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away.

No.

I won’t believe they took her life. They need her in some way. She managed to survive all this time and will continue to do so.

You promised, Reina.

The door clicks open and I startle, nearly toppling over the side of the bed. During my jumbled thoughts about what happened, I forgot about the unfamiliar place I’m in.

My heart picks up speed and sweat beads on my forehead. My muscles tighten like every time Mom ushered me from the bed and told me we were leaving.

No warning, no nothing.

My eyes were usually closed as we ran in the middle of the night to God knows where then slept under the walls when we had no money for hotels. At least I slept—Mom never did. She’d stay wide awake all night watching over me to ward off any homeless.

Or the men chasing us.

Those motherfuckers, she called them. They’ll never take you away from me, Rai. Not as long as I breathe.

What if they came for me now? What if they figured out the identity switch and decided to rectify their mistake nine years later?

A shadow spills into the room and I jump back, my shoulder blades hitting the wall.

The light casts a halo on him as he becomes clear. A long breath heaves out of my lips before they turn shallow again.

Asher.

No idea why it’s both relieving and suffocating to see him.

Probably because he tried to kill you, Reina.

No, not Reina. Rai. I was always Rai. Reina was temporary. Her life was never mine to confiscate.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been that cold and aloof with her personality. I didn’t want people to get close because I didn’t want to form any attachments. I was an imposter and knew that one day, the real Reina would return to her life.

I was only a watchdog, and in my attempts to remain detached, I royally fucked it up.

Asher carries a plate in his hands as he approaches me at a steady pace. His dark jeans hang low on his hips and his T-shirt tightens around the developed muscles of his chest.

I force myself to look away as a potent feeling of disgust grips me by the throat.

The reality of what I’ve done—and can’t undo—slams against my face.

I fucked my sister’s fiancé.

I lusted after him and clung to him as if I had every right to. Not only that, I also did something so unforgivable, he’s thinking about killing me now.

What the fuck have I done?

He sits on the edge of the bed, setting the tray beside him. “You haven’t eaten since this morning.”

My stomach clenches as if approving of the statement. It’s then I realize I’m still flattened against the wall, facing away as if my life depends on it.

“Where am I?” I ask without meeting his gaze.

“At your apartment.” His voice is neutral, emotionless even. “Now sit down and eat.”

I head to the entrance. Once I find my purse and phone, I’m leaving. Why the hell did he bring me to the apartment anyway? I barely get away with avoiding him in the large house where everyone else is.

“Stop and turn around.” He speaks so low, goosebumps erupt on my skin. “You don’t want me to do it for you.”

You know what? Why should I keep on running away? I did enough of that for a lifetime when I was a kid.

The world needs to stop and face me this time. People need to see me, not Rai or Reina, a Sokolov or an Ellis, but me.

Just me.

The person inside who’s barely holding on by a thread.

With a resigned sigh, I turn around and march over to where Asher sits on the bed.

My bed.

There’s something so intimate about that, and I don’t want to admit it right now.

I lower myself opposite him, with the plate between us. I place both my hands underneath my thighs so they don’t act out on any crazy ideas like reaching out to brush back that stray strand on his forehead.

“Now eat,” he orders.

God, this man and his authoritative streak. I wish I hated it.

If I did, maybe all of this would be easier. Maybe my entire body wouldn’t be on high alert with a full rush of adrenaline.

“I’m fine.” My stomach growls as soon as the words come out of my mouth.

Damn traitor.

“You were saying?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to eat, okay?” I pause. “Why did you bring me here? How did you find me anyway?”

“I followed you.”

I followed you.

Just like that. No explanation, no attempt at apologizing.

Who am I kidding? I’m starting to think Asher isn’t apologetic about anything.

He’s his own brand of atypical, not exactly a sociopath, but something similar. At times, it feels like he does care, but at other times, he completely eradicates that part.

“And why are we here?” I murmur.

“Because.” He takes a spoonful of what seems to be mac and cheese and places it in front of my mouth. “For the last time, fucking eat.”